Evelyn's POV:  

As I slowly opened my eyes, I could hear a faint beeping sound. It grew louder as my vision adjusted, and I realized I was in a hospital room. My hand was connected to a drip stand, and my dad sat beside me, his head buried in his hands. I tried to speak, but my voice came out as a whisper.

“Dad,” I croaked, my throat dry.

He looked up, and our eyes met. A tear rolled down his cheek, and his face was etched with concern.

“It’s okay, Dad. I’m fine,” I whispered, trying to sound stronger than I felt.

He took my hand in his and...